The Slave
by GingerFate
Summary: Randy was just been sold from his slave house to be given as a gift. His new Master isn't happy about having him around but keeps him anyways. Though Randy was sold as a sex slave, he has no actual training in the sexual art. Will Randy survive being a slave for Master Stephen, or will he be found out and sold? Slash, explicit content to come. Please REVIEW.
1. Chapter 1

Randy took a deep breath as he waited behind the curtain leading to the show room. This was it. He was finally going to meet his new life, if you could even call this a life. Being sold wasn't a life, it was a jail sentence. He could hear the bids going on for the person who went out before him, another poor soul who had been sold to the Levesque Slave House at a young age. In the slave house Randy had been trained to be quiet and please his future master, a master that he would be meeting within the hour once his bidding was over.

"Randal, it's almost time." Hunter came to Randy and straightened the white band on his tanned arm. Hunter Levesque owned this slave house, one of the largest in the country. Hunter always stayed impersonal with the slaves-in-training but made sure they were taken care of. Randy stayed cold, no speaking. He had been trained to only speak when he was given permission, but that didn't stop him from giving a confused look when Hunter pulled something red form his pocket. Noticing the look, he tied the red arm band right under the white one. "We can get more for you with this."

Not wanting to get into trouble for questioning Hunter, Randy only looked straight ahead and nodded. This could be bad for him in the future, the red arm band didn't apply to him, but it applied to some others at the Levesque house. While the white band, symbolizing that Randy was a virgin, was true, the red arm band that represented being trained in the sexual arts was a lie. Randy's parents had sold him into the house at 17, too old to begin sexual training in the "pleasure program" that Hunter had, so Randy had been trained as a house slave, meant for chores, cooking, cleaning, and anything else that applied to him. Anything other than sex. Yes, most slaves would eventually be used for sex, which was why the white band was necessary, but the trained ones went for a higher price. And a trained _virgin_…who knew what they would pay for Randy. And that's all Hunter cared about, what number he could get for Randy. He definitely didn't care about what would happen to Randy once the new master found out that Randy had no clue about anything of the sexual nature. The boy had never even kissed anyone.

He had never had a chance. His parents had put him to work when he was 11, then once they got sick of taking care of him and realized Randy was growing to be a handsome man they decided to sell him to the Levesque house for a good amount of money, but not near as much as Hunter would be making off of him.

"Let's go, boy." Hunter took Randy by the arm and led him to the curtains that lead to the platform. The potential buyers would be able to see Randy trough double sided windows, viewing him and then buying based on appearance. That's why Hunter had put him in nothing but a pair of low riding sweat pants, his well-built body on display. At 18 Randy was a large boy, almost completely filled out already. The tribal tattoo on his lower arm made him look a bit older, but it was a tattoo he shared with many of the slaves. It ensured that he couldn't escape and get a new identity, everyone would know he was a slave by the tattoo. If he was let go, or somehow got the money to buy himself Randy could get the tattoo either removed or crossed out, but the chances of that were slim to none. Occasions where slaves were actually able to get out of the slave life were hardly heard of.

Randy walked onto the platform, looking at the ground the whole time, and stood. There was the normal 30 second grace period where no bids were allowed, giving a small amount of time to really look at Randy. Once the 30 seconds were up the bidding wall lit up. The wall had the room number of the bidder and their bid, there was always 2 minutes of battle. Once the two minutes were up the person with the highest bid was the automatic owner. The bid wall was going insane, soon the numbers were at a level Randy would have never predicted. Confused, he looked at Hunter, who was standing by the curtain he had entered through, but Hunter looked equally surprised. For the entire 2 minutes the numbers never stopped climbing until finally a bid was set that no one could beat. A bid that halted all other bids. A bid that broke Levesque house records.

The buzzer sounded through the room, signaling that biding was over and Randy was sold. Hunter looked more than pleased with the number. Shit, even Randy was a bit please with how much someone had been willing to pay for him. But the feeling was replaced when he realized that the person had paid for a trained slave, and Randy was not trained at all. His new master would beat him for sure. Randy had heard of what happens to the slaves who get in trouble. He had even seen what Hunter could do when one of them acted up.

Slaves had been sold for large amounts, but Randy's bid would put the Levesque house on the map. He had never heard of a slave being sold for 2.3 million dollars, but that's what happened.

A man came and ushered Randy to a door on the other side of the room, a door that would lead him to his new owner. The man quickly pushed him through the door to another room where a man was standing. The man was tall and wore a suite that had to cost thousands of dollars. The watch on his arm had diamonds and his shoes were impeccable. Yep, this guy could afford to drop more than 2 million on a slave if he wanted. Finally looking up at his face Randy took his new owner in. There was a scruffy beard, a slightly crooked nose, and short brown hair swept to the side.

"Hello, Randal, I'm Wade Barret. You are to call me either Sir or Mister Barrett only." He had a deep British timber. The man seemed nice enough. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not the one who will be taking care of you."

Randy gave a quizzical look, still not speaking.

The man laughed. "You are to be a gift for a friend." He eyed Randy up and down. "As much as I wish you belonged to me, you don't. You will, however, be meeting your new master today. Now come."

Mister Barrett gestured to another door and Randy walked towards it, letting Mister Barrett go first and then following him. They walked from the bid house to the parking lot, two other servants of Barrett meeting and following them to a sleek black car, the nicest car Randy had ever seen let alone been in. One of the silent servants opened the door to the car, Barrett pulled out his phone to send a text completely ignoring the servant who opened the door. Randy followed into the car and gave the servant a nod of thanks, sliding in next to Barrett. The car ride was silent, Barrett taking business and social calls the entire time, paying no mind to the freshly bought slave in his car. Randy got lost in thoughts about who his new owner was, where he was going to live, what he was going to be doing there. The time flew as he took in the scenery, seeing parts of the city he hadn't seen since he had been sold, but soon the city faded into English country side. It had been almost an hour in the car and Randy was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Soon they were pulling into a cobble stone drive way that lead up to a two story house that was beautiful. It wasn't as large as Randy had pictured someone rich living in, but it was as nice as he had imagine. It was villa style and had a balcony, Randy could see an area leading to a pool in the back yard, which stretched into a field. There was no one around and the city was a good 45 minutes away, total seclusion. There was a three car garage that Randy was sure to be full of expensive cars.

The car they were in came to a stop where the driveway lead to the front door and the servants got out, opening the doors for both Randy and Barrett. Randy followed the man who had bought him to the door, expecting to stop and knock but getting caught off guard when Barrett just walked in. Following, Randy took in his new surroundings. The house was amazing, the large entrance had a double staircase to the second floor, the front room opened all the way to the back patio doors that lead to the pool, to the left was a spacious living room with an entertainment system that Randy had no idea how to operate and probably cost thousands of dollars. To the right there we a couple of tall double doors that were closed, most likely another main room of the house. Randy guessed that the kitchen was in the area of the house behind the living room, where he couldn't see it from the entrance. The top floor obviously held at least 4 bedrooms. The place seemed pretty homey, a place one could see themselves comfortably living, but dispite this the entire house was kept….dark. Except for the light coming in from the door and the cracks in the curtain. It also seemed like no one really kept the house up, it wasn't like there was trash and garbage laying around, but there was clutter and dust.

"Stephen!" Barrett bellowed, looking back and flashing Randy a mischievous smile. Soon, a bang was heard from upstairs followed by some grumbling. This was it, Randy's new owner was here.

Randy looked at the floor, knowing not to look at a master unless told to.

A thick Irish timber made Randy jump as he heard foot steps coming from the stairs. "God damnitt, Wade! I told you not to fucking- what the fuck is that?!"

Randy knew the man was talking about him, he could see the two figures standing in front of one another through his eye lashes, a pale hand gesturing in his direction. Barrett came up behind Randy and two hands pushed the slave forward by the shoulders.

"This, my dear friend, is a gift." Randy could hear the smile in Barrett's voice.

"A gift? This is a fucking person. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a human being in my house?! I don't like people in my house." The voice got angrier.

Barrett sighed and walked to his friend. "He's a slave. Stephen, I'm sick of listening to you bitch about how hard it is to get a lay in the city and I know how much you hate having to go to the city to find someone to fuck. So, I went to the auctions and got you a sex slave. Look!" Barrett tugged at the bands on Randy's arm. "He's a virgin! And he's trained in sex!"

Stephen sighed aggressively. "I don't want it. Take it back where you got it from."

It? Randy felt offended, he was not an "it," he was a boy. A person. Not an it.

"Stephen, I can't just take a 2.3 million dollar purchase back and get an exchange. It doesn't work that way. I got it for you. Now take it." Barrett gave Randy a gentle shove towards Stephen. As Randy fell forward, not expecting the shove, he looked up and into the eyes of the man he was falling into. Randy had to hold back a gasp. He was met with fiery green eyes that were accentuated by pale skin. Red hair was styled to stick straight up and facial hair that matched the hair on the man's head was neatly trimmed. A scowl was etched into his face as he caught Randy by the arms, straightening him and pulling back quickly.

"I don't want it. Sell it to someone else." Stephen said, looking past Randy to his friend as if the shirtless and scared boy wasn't even there.

"Fine. I'll take him to another slave house and resell him back. Jesus, Stephen. You need someone else here. I thought you would at least be a bit grateful." Barrett grumbled.

"No!" Randy didn't realize he had said it until both men looked at him, looking shocked. They weren't used to slaves speaking without permission and Randy's outburst sounded demanding. Neither men spoke, so Randy kept going, wrenching his hands in front of himself. "Please don't sell me back! I'm trained. I clean, I cook, I know how to tend to the house and gardens and any chores you need. Please don't take me back to the slave house!" Randy knew he probably looked pathetic, but he knew what happened to slaves that were returned or resold. They were given to the slum slave houses, houses that would sell Randy to whoever for the cheapest price. And these people were known for buying slave to prostitute out. At least this way Randy only had to satisfy one master and not many.

Barrett's face turned red. "You don't speak unless spoken to slave!" Barrett came towards Randy and lifted a hand to backhand Randy, the boy tensing in anticipation. He had been hit enough while in training to know what came next.

Suddenly, a pale hand shot out around Barrett's wrist, stopping the man from hitting Randy.

"Stephen?! What are you doing? He was out of line." Barrett looked at his friend.

Stephen paid no mind to his friend, he just stared at Randy. Slaves never spoke out of term, but this one had. This boy fascinated Stephen. Other than the fact the he was the most delectable thing Stephen had ever seen, the demanding tone that had been hidden behind Randy's pleading attracted Stephen. It wasn't because Stephen liked being dominated, no, it was because he liked a challenge. And this boy would definitely be a challenge. Stephen only wondered how long it would be until he could break the kid.

"Wade, leave." Stephen demanded, his dominating green eyes never leaving Randy's scared ones.

"Stephen-," Barrett began, but Stephen shot him a look. Barrett smiled and pulled a bundle of papers from his jacket pocket, placing them on a table by the entrance to the house. "Have fun." He shot that mischievous grin again before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

After a couple minutes of Stephen walking around Randy, eyeing him, the Irish voice cut through the air. "You will call me Master and Master only. And do not ever think of speaking out of term with me again slave, or you will be punished." Stephen stood in front of Randy, raking his eyes over the tanned boy. "Now," Stephen began undoing the belt at his jeans, popping the button. "Let's see how trained you really are. Get on your knees."

Oh shit, it was over before it had begun. There was no way Randy would make it out of this, he had never sucked a cock before. Dropping to his knees, Randy prayed he was just convincing enough to make his master happy.

**A/N- Ok, I'm leaving this one here. This is my first SHANDY so I hope I do the genre justice. Please review and let me know what you think so I know if I should continue with this one.**

**Love,**

**-BattleBird**


	2. Chapter 2

There Randy was, on his knees trying to stay as calm as possible as he waited for his Master to unveil the impressive bugle growing in his jeans. Randy could already tell he would not be able to take all of it into his mouth, if any at all.

Pale hands pulled down the zipper, only revealing clean shaven skin. Of course the man wasn't wearing underwear. Swallowing deeply Randy's eyes followed the hands as they pealed the jeans down. A huge cock sprang free, staring Randy in the face. The head was flushed his arousal and there was a long vein running up the bottom, leading to the top where pre-cum was starting to leak from the slit. This was the first time Randy had ever seen a penis up close. Sure he had seen pictures and heard about what they were like from the kids at the slave house who were being trained in the pleasure program, but Randy himself had never seen one let alone taken one into his mouth. Randy licked his dry lips and took a deep breath, he knew his eyes had to be as big as the moon right now. If he was going to have a hard time taking this into his mouth what would it be like taking it up the-

"Well, boy. Get to it. I don't have all fucking day to see if you're any use or not." Master's voice came from above.

Randy chanced a look up and almost cowered away at the intense gaze his master was giving him. Those green eyes were watching Randy's every move, testing the slave, waiting for him to do something wrong. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to see his master smile. Would those eyes be as cold? Or would they warm up? Surely his master couldn't scowl all the time.

Moving his gaze back down to the waiting cock in his face Randy lifted one of his shaking hands slowly, hesitating before grasping the thick base. There was a groan above him, so he had to be doing something right. Randy stroked the length a few times, becoming more relaxed because of the sounds his master was making above him. Deciding it was time, Randy licked his lips one more time and slowing inched his head towards the throbbing cock in his face, already thinking of the punishment he was going to get for not knowing what to do.

Letting his tongue come out of his mouth, Randy swept in and did what he thought might be right, swirling his tongue over the head and sucking up all the pre-cum. There was another moan above him. Randy looked up, tongue still licking the impressive head, and saw that his master's head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. This gave Randy the confidence he needed to continue, licking was easy, sucking was different. It was hard to fuck up just using tongue, but taking this massive thing into his mouth was a completely different story. A trained slave would be able to deep throat, but Randy couldn't. Breathing deeply Randy pulled away, calculating the best way to go about trying to take all of it but then deciding that would be impossible. He would just have to take as much as possible. Moving forward again Randy felt a hand rest on his head gently, a large thumb rubbing his head. It felt….nice.

Just as Randy was about to throw caution to the wind and go for it there was a loud ringing noise followed by a curse above him, causing Randy to jump. The hand that wasn't on his head reached into the pocket of the barely pulled down pants and brought out a ringing cell phone. Not knowing what to do, Randy did nothing, just stayed on his knees and looked up at his master's face. He knew looking at masters wasn't permitted unless slaves were told to, but Randy couldn't help it. He was fascinated by the beauty of the man who owned him. Between the fiery hair, green eyes, and pae skin, Randy didn't know what he thought was sexier about this man. Maybe belonging to him wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Realizing he had been lost in thought, Randy jumped again when his master shouted something into the phone before hanging up and pulling up his pants, taking his hand away from Randy. The lack of warmth on his head now made Randy feel helpless again.

"Look's like we will have to pick this up another time." With that Master walked away from Randy and up the stairs, turning down a hallway presumably to his room. Not knowing what to do since he wasn't given an order, Randy did nothing. He stayed in his position on the hard marble floor, ignoring the dull pain that was beginning in his knees. Should he have followed his master? No, master hadn't told him too. Should he go…..well…somewhere else? No, master hadn't said to. Randy would not make a single move unless told too. Maybe if he obeyed every word his master wouldn't be as upset that he wasn't really trained in sex.

It was 30 minutes later when his master finally came to the stairs again, coming down and giving Randy a funny look when he reached the bottom.

"Hey," His master spoke, making Randy look up. The sight before him nearly made him gasp. Master was dressed in a black suit that was tailored to fit him in a way that made Randy….well aroused. Slaves weren't allowed to get aroused on their own, only when they were told to. So Randy stayed on the ground with his hands in his lap, trying to cover what was happening to him. The suit had no jacket, but there was a black vest that was buttoned over a white button up that was tucked into well-fitting black slacks. The white sleeves were rolled up to his master's elbows, showing part of the strong arms. "why are you still on the ground?"

His master hadn't told him directly to speak, but Randy assumed he was supposed to answer. "You didn't give me an order to leave this spot, Master."

His master gave an odd look and rubbed a hand down his face. "Ok listen, the only rules I have for you right now are to follow my orders and call me 'Master." If I forget to give you an order just….follow me to where ever I'm going. That way I will remember to give you something to do. Understood?"

Randy nodded.

"Good. Now, I have to go into the city to handle some business that involves signing the ownership name on your papers from Wade's to mine. The idiot forgot to have me sign them." As he spoke, his master put on a watch and grabbed the papers from the table where Barrett had put the and slipped them into his vest. "I would like you to stay here and get settled in. Explore the house, get to know where everything is. I like my things a certain way, which is why I don't let anyone in my house, so don't touch anything. Your room is up the stair, to the right, the last door on the right. My bedroom is the one right across from it. Do not go in there. And before you think about getting nosey trust me when I say that I will know if you went in there. Any questions?"

Randy had listened intently and didn't have any questions so far, so he just shook his head.

"Good. I might end up spending the night in the city and finding someone to take care of this 'problem you've caused me." While his master said this he adjusted himself in his pants, obviously still having an issue with his erection. "I don't have to leave for another 15 minutes so, would you like me to show you the kitchen and get you something to eat?"

Randy wasn't hungry, all he could do was stare at the bulge that was still in his master's pants. He felt bad for not being able to finish what he was demanded. His only job was to pleasure his master and he had failed on his first order. Snapping himself out of the lock he had on the bulge Randy looked at his master's smirking face. It was obvious the red haired man knew what he was doing.

"Get up from the floor." The demanding tone from earlier was back.

Randy scrambled to stand, but his eyes never left his master's. His master took two stepped, coming up to Randy face-to-face and looking at him with and amused look on his face. Suddenly, Randy's hand was caught and shoved down the black slacks, this time there were underwear, but his hand was shoved under them.

His master's other hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and lips spoke into his ear. "Don't worry, boy. You will get this cock later. But right now I have work. You can show me _everything _you learned in that training of yours when I get back in the morning."

Randy's hand was taken out of the pants and he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. His master straightened himself up and walked towards the door, only giving him a single glance before walking out and leaving Randy in the house completely alone.

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Stephen Farrelly walked from the house to his garage, cursing himself the entire way. That boy was going to be the death of him. From the moment Stephen saw the kid he knew this. As Stephen got into his Jaguar F coupe he thought back to the moment he had ran down the stairs to curse his friend, Wade, but had been speechless at the sight of the boy. From the handsome face to the perfect golden skin Stephen wanted to devour the kid. His cock had gotten hard the moment he first laid eyes on him.

He had never wanted to own a slave, not because he thought having house slaves was wrong, but because he didn't want to have to take care of another human being. Stephen had no issue going to s friend's house for a party and treating the slaves like…well….slaves. That's what they were, why should he treat them differently. Though he didn't particularly condone owners who beat their slaves for no reason, those types of people bothered Stephen. At least he could remember that they were actually human beings that could feel pain; some people didn't seem to bother thinking about those sorts of things.

Anyhow, Wade had been right, Stephen had a sexual appetite like no other and he hated always having to go to the city and look for a solid lay. Waking up in hotel rooms next to strangers had gotten old. Sure he was only 26, but that didn't mean every encounter he had needed to be a one night stand in a hotel. And it always had to be in a hotel room, Stephen had gotten the house in the country side for a specific reason; he didn't like people too much. While most of his friends kept an abundance of staff and slaves, Stephen chose to have neither. He liked his privacy and he liked having his house empty.

During the drive from his home into the city, a 45 minute drove to someone who wasn't Stephen but somehow when he drove it turned into a mere 30 minute drive, Stephen thought of what he would do with the boy who he now owned. Smiling to himself Stephen thought of the arm bands. A trained virgin. Though with how nervous the boy was at the sight of his cock Stephen had a little doubt in the trained part….but perhaps it was just his first time with the real thing. Oh well, he would certainly get rid of that nervousness. By the end of the week Stephen would have the boy broken and letting Stephen fuck him into the mattress. There would be nothing personal about this relationship, which was the best part. Stephen hated being personal. He hated kissing, preferred his partners bent over so he didn't have to look at their face. The more he thought about it, the better the slave thing sounded. Less trips to the city, someone to wait on him hand and foot, and a good fuck whenever he wanted, he was totally in.

The only down side to owning the slave at this moment wasn't being at home getting his cock sucked by the gorgeous mouth. Just the boys hand on his had made Stephen want to explode; those long fingers were made for pleasure. Everything about the slave was made for pleasure. The entire ride was filled with Stephen trying to get his throbbing erection to go down, trying anything in the book, but as long as he knew that present of Wade's was waiting at home there was no way this thing was going away.

Pulling into an office building that belonged to Wade, the building right next to the one Stephen himself owned, Stephen parked his car and walked into Barrett Advertising Inc. Wade's family had been in the advertising business for years and the corporation was established, while Stephen's business was technically new. He owned one of the largest beer companies in Europe and was only expanding further, soon he would be flying to the United States to get his brand out there. His beer was named 'Brogue' and had sky rocketed as soon as he had begun selling it right out of college. Only having a business management degree was enough to run the now multi-million dollar company. Originally it had started as Stephen making his own beer in college for fun, but then it had become a passion. He had different types of 'Brogue' and everyone seemed to love all of them. At 22 he had expanded to a large brewery, then a larger one, and then he had his own office building within a year. Over the past three years he had earned nearly 100 million dollars in the beer business. Stephen had been put on the map as one of the youngest millionaires in the world all because he had experimented in his dorm with beer.

Walking into the empty building and to the elevator Stephen hit the button for the top floor, where Wade's office towered over everything. Once he arrived Stephen walked in, going to the bar part of the office and pouring himself a drink, making himself completely at home. The office was huge, bigger than Stephen would ever need of an office. Wade's had a desk , a couch area with a TV and full entertainment system, and a full bar. Stephen had been to many parties held in this office.

As he opened to fridge to get a snack he smiled at the shelf filled entirely with Brogue beer.

"Stephen! My friend!" Wade's voice boomed though the room. Turning, Stephen saw his friend coming from an elevator. Wade had gotten rid of his tie and opened the first few buttons of his shirt.

"Wade, why do you keep so much of this stuff in your fridge?" Stephen gestured to the beer in the fridge.

Wade clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "Well friend, you make a damn fine beer and my clients love to drink the stuff during business meetings. That, and what kind of advertiser would I be if I didn't have the product I was advertising on hand? It was true, Wade was the advertising company that worked with Brogue beer. When they met in college Wade and Stephen had hit it off, even though Stephen didn't come from a rich background like Wade. The friends had never cared about one another's finances. But when Wade saw the business potential in Stephen's idea he had supported Stephen and pushed him to take on the challenge of opening a brewery at such a young age. Wade had even gotten his father to loan Stephen the money. Stephen had paid back every dime within the first year. He owed all of his success to his best friend Wade Barrett.

"Who knew beer would be my calling?" Stephen laughed.

"Well, friend, you are Irish." Wade laughed.

"That's racist you big English bastard!" Stephen punched his friend in the shoulder and they both laughed harder.

"Gentlemen," A voice came from beside them and both men looked over to see a man in his mid-forties holding a brief case.

"Mr. Hanly," Wade greeted the man. This was Wade's lawyer. Stephen guessed that he needed to be present while they signed over all of the paper work.

"Mr. Barrett. Are we ready to begin?" He looked at Stephen and Wade expectantly.

"Of course we are! Stephen here would probably like to legally own the present I got him!" Wade went to the area of couches in the room where meetings were held, Stephen and the lawyer following. "You brought the papers, right Stephen?"

Downing the rest of his whiskey, Stephen pulled the papers from his vest and laid them on the table. While Wade and Hanly got other things together Stephen actually took the time to read the boys paper work. He was only 18, but it was beginning of March now, so on April first he would turn 19. Stephen felt a bit bad for the boy being so young and wondered how someone his age got into slavery but shook off the thoughts. It wasn't his business or his concern to know how his slave had become a slave. The boy was the same height as Stephen, but weighed a bit less. He was born in the United Stated originally, but had been brought to England to England almost two years ago, probably when he got sold to the slave house.

"Ready to sign, Stephen?" Wade's voice made Stephen snap his head up to see his friend holding a pen out to him.

Taking the pen, Stephen signed where the lawyer told him to, sealing the deal with a handshake with his friend. The lawyer shook their hands and left. That was it, the process of owning a person was as easy as writing your name on a piece of paper.

Wade walked Stephen to the elevator, knowing that since it was now dark Stephen would want to be heading back to the country side soon. As they walked Wade spoke. "Enjoy this one, friend. I almost kept him for myself."

Stephen nodded in agreement. "I agree, you made me change my mind about having one in my house with this one. The boy is…." Stephen couldn't come up with a word to describe his boy.

"I know." Wade laughed. "Don't get to smitten with him, he's very young and doesn't have as much training as others. He could get rebellious."

Stephen gave a wicked grin. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."

They said their goodbyes and Stephen left. The whole drive back all Stephen could think about was the nice piece of ass waiting for him at home. He could wait to break in his boy. His…Randy Orton.

**A/N- Smut will be coming very soon in this story so for those of you getting mad with me for not having it yet had patience. This chapter gave you more insight on Stephen's side so I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will be coming soon. Please review and let me know what you think about me or this story. The more reviews the faster I write new chapters, so keep that in mind. **

**Love,**

**-BattleBird**


	3. Chapter 3

Stephen locked down his garage and headed towards the front door to his home, enjoying the night air during the short walk. It was around 11 pm now, so he expected the boy to still be up and venturing around the house. As he opened the front door Stephen smiled at the thought of the boy being in his house, waiting and ready for him to fuck. His cock twitched in anticipation.

Walking in, Stephen threw his keys on the table by the door, looking around as he unbuttoned his vest. There was no sign of the boy anywhere; Stephen couldn't even hear any shuffling around the house. The only thing that caught his attention was the faint sound of the TV to his left. Walking into the open living room, Stephen noted the dimmed lights and low volume of the TV. The cooking channel was on. Hmm….maybe his new slave had a thing for cooking. That would be good seeing as how Stephen was about as good at cooking at a blind man.

The other thing Stephen noticed was a foot hanging off the end of the couch, just dangling. Walking around the couch Stephen followed the contours of the leg that was attached to the dangling foot. The jeans the boy was wearing were rolled up to his knees and judging by the light dust of dirt on the boy's feet he had been outside in the garden. As Stephen's eyes took in the sleeping figure a smile spread across his face for a reason he couldn't think of. The tanned body was facing him, the boy's arms wrapped around himself while one of his feet dangled off the couch and the other was bent at the knee. The tanned face had a days' worth of growth on it, giving a more mature look to the boy, but the relaxed featured of his sleeping face made him look boyish. Before Stephen knew what he was doing, he reached out and ran his fingers over the soft cheek, just above where the dark stubble began. His thumb found its way over the plump bottom lip. The boy made a mewling sound in his sleep before adjusting his boy slightly, relaxing back into his slumber.

Sighing, Stephen knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to wake the boy up to take care of the problem that he still had from their earlier fun. That would have to wait until later. Stephen leaned down, hooking one arm under the boys shoulders and one under his knees. Stephen lifted him easily; making sure his hold was secure before walking out of the living room and towards the stairs. The kid was lean, but still needed to put on some weight to be at a healthier weight for his size. Stephen would make sure his slave was at physical peak to keep up with him in bed.

Once Stephen made it to the boy's temporary room, glad to see that the door was ajar and he could just nudge it with his foot. Striding into the large room, he managed to peel the queen sized blanket back and set the boy down gently, slowing his motions when he heard another sound come from him. Taking a step back, he took in the kids appearance again, this time feeling displeased that the kid was only wearing an old pair of worn out jeans that had to be a size to small. While Stephen liked the view of the toned thighs being hugged by the tight denim, he wanted his slave to be dressed accordingly. Tomorrow he would take the boy into the city to buy him a wardrobe. Something that he could work around the house in, but also something that would be easily removable should Stephen have any….urges that would need to be taken care of.

Turning the light in the room off, giving his slave one last glance, Stephen walked across the hallway into his own room, ready to take a shower and take care of the erection he had been sporting ever since the boy had laid a hand on him. Stephen's mind would be filled with thoughts of the kid all night.

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Randy slowly came awake, blinking at the intrusion of light coming through a crack in the curtain. Once his eyes adjusted to the light Randy sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in the room that his master had told him was his. The bed was the most comfortable he had ever been in, and seeing as how he had only ever been in cots or on floors it wasn't too hard to impress him. The thick comforter was around his waist and the rest of the bed was a mess from Randy's sleeping.

Looking around the room, he was just as amazed as the first time he had seen it last night. He couldn't believe a master would give a slave a room like this. It was very large, he even had his own bathroom and closet, the four poster bed was large enough that Randy's feet didn't hang off of the end, and the entire room had a blue, silver, and black theme to it. There were two large dressers in the room, one doubling as an entertainment center, and a night stand was on either side of the bed, each one containing a night lamp. The head of the bed was against the wall, two large windows on either side. This room was the most beautiful Randy had ever slept in. And his master had given it to him.

"Well, it's nice to see that you're up and around."

Randy's head snapped towards the voice, seeing his master standing just inside the doorway looking just as breathe taking as he had the night before. This time he wore a white button up, but instead of a clack vest it was grey with pants of the same material and hew. His red hair was styled to stick straight up like it had before, and his green eyes glinted with amusement.

Not knowing whether or not to answer, and knowing that he shouldn't be ogling his master, Randy just looked down at his lap, waiting for an order.

There was a bit of shuffling and then his master has standing next to the bed, setting something right in the spot where Randy was looking, ride in his lap.

"We are going to the city today. Put this on. Have you ever been on a shopping spree?" His master asked, looking down at Randy.

"No, Master." Randy mumbled.

"Well we are going today. Now get showered, dressed, and come downstairs to get something to eat." With that, his master strode from the room and shut the door, leaving him. Randy let out the breath he was holding and stood, grabbing the clothes and going to the bathroom that had the same color scheme as the bedroom. Everything he needed was in the bathroom; toothbrush, soap, and even a facial razor.

After taking a long warm shower, Randy trimmed up the scruff on his face, not knowing if his master preferred him with or without it. Once his teeth were brushed and his body dried Randy unfolded the clothes and threw them on without really looking at them. In his life it had never mattered what he wore, he would be lucky to even get some fresh clothes. That is if clothes gotten from some swop meet could be considered fresh. The only reason his parents had ever gotten him clothes was when he had had another growth sprout and couldn't fit the old clothes at all.

It was only after he was dressed in the clothes and walked into the bedroom that he had caught a glance at himself in the mirror. His master had chosen well, the dark grey v-neck hugged Randy's chest nicely, but was a bit looser around his stomach area, while the jeans he wore were stylishly faded and loose fitting. The jeans fit in a way that looked like he might have bought them a size to large on purpose, but for someone as filled out as his master they would have hugged the man in all the right places. Randy could just imagine the denim grasping the thick thighs and firm back side perfectly. In these jeans Randy could probably get a nice view of that thick bulge he knew his master had. Just the thought of that perfectly shaped cock had Randy's body stirring with a feeling he had never had before. The jeans, though loose fitting, now felt tighter.

Randy shook his head and wished away the thoughts. Slaves weren't supposed to get these thoughts about their masters. Slaves were meant to serve their master's needs, not the other way around. Walking out of the door Randy quietly made his way down the stairs. Rule Number 10 of being a slave: A loud slave was a useless slave.

Once downstairs Randy began to smell something….interesting. It was sort of…burning. Making his way through the entertainment/living room and to the kitchen Randy stopped at the door, almost laughing at the sight but stopping himself because he knew he could be punished dearly for laughing at a master. But the sight before him was amusing. His master was standing at the counter looking intently into a cook book and holding a smoking pan in the other hand away from the fire. Suddenly the smoke alarm went off, causing his master to curse and throw the pan down with a bang, running to the smoke alarm and ripping out the battery. While his master cursed at the alarm, Randy made his way to the stove, turning off the fire and grabbing the smoking pan, dropping it in the sink and turning the water on. Once the pan was soaking Randy went to the stove and hit the switch to the vent above the burners, clearing out the smoke almost immediately. After all of this was taken care of he went to the fridge and took in his options. Once he decided on making omelets and sautéed vegetables for his master Randy pulled out all the necessary ingredients and placed them on the kitchen island that was across from the stove.

The entire time he was moving around the kitchen like a pro, Randy hadn't noticed that his master had stopped cursing and started watching him. His master took in every move he made while taking a seat at the island barstool. Once Randy had looked around and shuffled through the kitchen, grabbing everything as though he knew exactly where it was from the beginning, he began doing what he did best. Cracking the eggs and placing them in the bowl, Randy whisked in a bit of milk for added fluff and seasoned them. Heating the pan with a bit of oil, he poured in enough for one portion and using a spoon to prevent the egg from sticking just as he had learned in his cooking program at the slave house. The only thing that kept Randy sane in that place was being in the kitchen, being able to create whatever he felt like.

In another sauté pan Randy took the vegetables and tossed them inside, seasoning a bit. He had chosen a bit of zucchini, mushrooms, and some bell peppers. It seemed to be the only non-microwavable things his master had in the fridge. Flipping the omelet, Randy pulled a plate from the cabinet and took it over to the counter, sliding the omelet out of the pan and to the plate, sprinkling it with a bit of shredded cheese, then added a portion of the vegetables. Grabbing a fork from the silver ware drawer, Randy set the plate in front of his master and began cleaning up.

His master only looked at the plate, taking in what his slave had done in only a matter of 15 minutes. The quizzical look on his face made Randy think that maybe he had made a mistake, perhaps his master didn't like eggs. Maybe he had been saving the eggs for something else. Shit, first Randy had fucked up pleasuring his master for the first time, and now he fucked up making breakfast. Why couldn't he manage the simplest things?

Slowly, his master picked up the fork and took a bite of omelet and vegetables, taking a bite and tasting it slowly. After a few seconds he swallowed, then began taking one bite after another. Well, maybe his master did like what he had made. When his plate was halfway finished, his green eyes met Randy's.

"Why aren't you eating?" His master asked.

Randy looked down at the table, tracing the pattern and shrugging. "I'm not hungry, Master."

Randy heard the fork drop on the plate and then two fingers lifted his chin, forcing Randy to look into the intense green eyes.

"Eat." It was a demand from his master. Something he couldn't refuse. "I will not have a weak slave. Not only do you need to be strong enough to keep up with the house work, you also need to be strong enough to keep up with me." The last of the words were spoken in a way that Randy couldn't miss the point. His master wanted him strong in bed and able to keep up stamina.

Randy only nodded and made himself an omelet, placing it on another plate and pouring the rest of the vegetables on as well. Once he had his plate Randy looked around. There was no slave table. Most places had a specific place for servants and slaves to eat, many even had completely different rooms. Not seeing a place for him to eat, Randy settled with eating on the counter next to the stove.

His master must have known the dilemma. "Come over here to eat."

Randy hesitated a moment before grabbing his plate and taking a seat in the stool next to his master, picking at his food. After a few bites he put his fork down and waited for his master to finish.

"Eat it all." Another demand coming from the man next to him.

Before Randy could help it, a sigh came from him as he picked up with fork to eat again. He hadn't even realized the annoyance laced in his sigh until his master had him picked up and pinned against the marble island.

"Am I detecting some attitude?" His masters hand was around his throat, not tight, but there as more of a warning.

Randy's eyes went wide as he realized he had gotten himself into trouble. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Maybe Randy would learn what a punishment from his master entailed.

The hand on his throat tightened as his master's large body pressed him against the counter top, there groins grinding together. Randy had to bite his lip. For some reason this was making him feel that same way he had when he thought of his master in the jeans. He felt a stirring as the jeans tightened once again and his erection began to form. As if noticing, his master only continued grinding their groins together, this time harder. Randy couldn't hold it back anymore, a moan slipped out. Closing his eyes, Randy let his head fall back as the assault continued. He could feel his master's cock pressing against his own. Randy moaned again when the pressure increased but the movement stopped.

"For your punishment, we will go shopping for you a new wardrobe." His master pulled back. Randy was breathing heavily but gave him a confused look. Suddenly a hand grasped his erection, squeezing. "And you will do it hard, all day. Any time I feel you aren't hard enough I will take care of it. Good luck trying on clothes without an erection."

Suddenly his master pulled away. Randy didn't see how this was a punishment. Perhaps his master's punishments wouldn't be so bad.

"Come. We need to get going."

Randy followed his master attentively into the garage, getting into a Range Rove Vogue. While hopping in Randy eyed the Jaguar F Coupe and Rolls Royce Wraith as well.

"One day you will get to ride in those. But today we have a lot of shopping to do, so we will need the space in the Rover." His master must have known what he was thinking.

Getting in, Randy put on his seat belt and got comfortable while his master pulled them out of the garage, driving down the long drive way and onto the road that would lead them into the city. It wasn't long before Randy was internally cursing his master for leaving him in his…situation. Sitting with this erection was becoming painfully uncomfortable, the material of the jeans suddenly the roughest thing he had ever had touch his skin. He suddenly wished his master would have just taken him on the counter then and there. At least that would have given him some sort of release. It suddenly dawned on Randy that he had never wanted anyone to fuck him, but suddenly all he could think about was being plowed into a mattress by his master. God, there was something wrong with him. He had been bought in a _slave_ house for this man to be his _master._ Nothing else but sex and service would come from this. Maybe he would get lucky and when his master did decide to get rid of him, he would at least sell Randy to someone reasonable.

Being lost in thought, Randy jumped when a hand dropped to his crotch, rubbing the half hard cock. Randy met his master's face, taking in the smirk.

"Getting a little soft on me, and we can't have that now can we?" His master looked so amused as he rubbed and squeezed Randy's cock through the jeans, but Randy didn't care. Right now he was getting some sort of friction, easing his discomfort. At least until the hand moved away and returned to the steering wheel.

Randy gave a grunt of frustration at the lack of contact. His master's warm hand on him had plagued him with thoughts he had never had before. He even played with the idea of his master pulling the car over and finishing him off, but that wouldn't happen. His master didn't care about his needs, he was only a slave.

His master tsked him. "Those sounds you make. They sound a lot like...rebellion. Like you are rebelling against what I am doing to you or telling you to do." The Irish voice grumbled, going straight to Randy's groin. "Why is it you make these sounds?"

Randy didn't answer, too busy trying to control his erection.

"Answer me, boy." The tone told Randy it would be a bad idea not to say something.

"I-I'm sorry. I haven't been in training as long as the others. It's harder for me to control my…emotions." That was the best reply Randy could come up with.

"Hmmm…and here I thought it was teenage rebellion rearing its ugly head. That will be acceptable though. You will still carry out the punishment, just so you learn not to do it anymore. And if you're good," The hand returned to Randy's crotch, continuing the assault. "You might get taken care of." And just like that the hand was gone and the car was silent.

He would get taken care of? Why would a master take care of a slave? It almost sounded like….his master _wanted _to take care of him.

**A/N- I know this one is a bit short, but I have some special things in store for the next chapter and it would have just been too long had I put everything in this one. Hopefully I can get the next chapter for you guys soon. I'm trying to progress the relationship, but I don't want to rush it. For now they are just having fun and learning about one another, but soon….things will happen. Please REVIEW. The more reviews I get the faster the next chapter comes.**

**Love-**

**BattleBird**


	4. Chapter 4

Randy rode next to his master in silence, staring straight ahead at the dash board and ignoring the fields going by the car. He barely noticed when fields turned into buildings and when the buildings turned into the city. All he could focus on right now was trying not to stare at the equally silent man next to him. The only noise coming from anywhere in the Range Rover was the faint sound of a Nine Inch Nails CD and the engine. Randy barely noticed when they came to a stop, only looking up when his master opened the door and got out, motioning for Randy to follow.

Once out of the car, Randy looked around. They were on one of the streets in the city best known for rich shoppers looking for designer clothes. Why would his master bring him here? There were specific stores littered around the city meant for slaves only. There was no reason for him to have such clothes since he would mainly be a house slave or a, Randy gulped at the idea, a sex slave.

His master led him into a boutique that had a casual style of clothing in the window. As soon as they entered a sales woman was talking to his master, asking if she could help with anything. Her voice was so nice it was sickening, she was not asking about clothes, she was flirting with his master. Randy felt a little….jealous…as his master smiled back and conversed with the woman. In her defense, she was a pretty little blond thing. Too bad she didn't realize what Randy's master was really into. With Randy there he wouldn't need to pick girls like her up anymore. Wait? Had he really thought that? The last thing Randy wanted was for his master to use him for sex, if he did he would realize the red band was a lie. He should wish that his master would take this woman home. But why did the idea sicken him?

"So what are we looking for today? A suit maybe?" She ran her hand down his masters arm and eyed his body. "Or something a bit more….casual?" Her eyes never once roamed to Randy, who stood behind his master quietly.

"Actually I'm hoping I can find a new wardrobe for this one." His master reached out and pulled Randy in front of him, his hands on Randy's biceps. It was as if his master was holding him out to show off.

The sales woman's face dropped and her smile disappeared. "Him?" She pointed at Randy.

"Yes, him." Randy's master stepped to his side and eyed him. "I was hoping for something on the casual side since he will be staying in the house most of the time. But a few outfits for dress occasions will be needed." His master faced the sales clerk with a smile, ignoring her disgusted look.

"Of course. We may have some….fitting things for him in the back." She didn't sound enthused about dressing a slave.

"No, I'll take the best you have here up front." His master's tone indicated that the conversation was over.

"Okay." The woman went to another employee, whispering something. After a few short words the other employee, who was a short brunette with a measuring tape around her neck, came to them while the blonde went about looking through the racks for cloths Randy could wear.

"I will just need to get some measurements."

His master smiled. "No problem."

They were led to a small platform that was in front of a mirror with two dressing rooms on either side. One Randy was situated on the platform; the woman began measuring his chest and arms. Once done with his top half the woman kneeled in front of Randy. It wasn't until he heard a small gasp that Randy felt heat rise in his cheeks. He still had an erection and this woman's face was level with it. From the side Randy heard his master chuckle, clearly knowing the situation. Instead of feeding his master's amusement, Randy stared forward and tried to ignore what was happening. He did everything in his power to will the hard on away but nothing worked. It had gone down substantially since his master had originally given it to him, but Randy was a good size and any erection was noticeable. It was a good thing the jeans he wore were pretty lose and gave him plenty of room to hide what was happening, otherwise the poor woman would have seen much more.

Once his measurements were taken, Randy and his master were left at the platform in the back of the store to wait for the sales woman to bring them clothes. Randy stayed on the platform with his hands at his sides and gaze on the floor. He was so lost in thought that when strong arms came around his waist Randy jumped and almost squeaked in surprise, but kept his gaze on the ground like a good boy.

His master's breath was hot on his ear, causing Randy to shiver and a fresh wave of heat to go through his body and straight to his groin. "It looks like you've gotten a bit soft on me. Didn't think I forgot about your punishment did you?" His master hand traveled down his stomach and over his crotch, barely hovering before grasping Randy's cock through the material of the jeans and rubbing. Randy bit his lip to stay quiet and let his eyes travel over the store. They were in some pretty secluded dressing rooms, probably because the store didn't want to be seen dressing a slave. Randy was suddenly glad they were so far away from the other people in the store, no one would be able to see what was happening. His master's hand worked his cock to life while teeth scraped at Randy's ear and neck. It was all Randy could do not to moan out and rub himself against the touch. If he did anything other than stay still it could be considered punishment worthy. For right now Randy just focused on not turning into a mess in the middle of a clothing store while that magic hand rubbed him to life. It didn't take long before the feeling of his master being so close to him and that mouth on his neck had Randy fully hard and panting.

Someone clearing their throat cause randy to snap his eyes open, not even realizing he had them closed in the first place. Both of the men looked over to see the sales clerk and woman who had taken Randy's measurements standing with their arms full of clothes for Randy to try on. While Randy blushed and tried to look away, his master merely chuckled and gave him a pat on the ass before returning to the chair in front of the platform. The women brought the clothes to Randy and ushered him into the changing room, handing him what had to be ten pairs of pants and fifteen shirts. Randy got undressed completely after they left, putting on a pair of dark jeans and one of the plain, army green, shirts they had given him. After adjusting himself a bit in the jeans, Randy stepped out of the dressing room, walking in front of his master's appreciative stare. After a few moments of standing there, Randy was worried. His master still hadn't said anything. What if he did something wrong? Did his master not like the outfit he chose?

"Good. I will take 5 pairs of the dark jeans, 5 of the faded, and an assortment of shirts in different colors, but mostly in that green and try to find some that match his eyes." His master stood and motioned for Randy to get changed back into his original cloths. He turned to the women. "I would also like three dress shirts, two white and one black, with two pairs of simple black slacks. I also believe a pair of khaki's will be needed."

The women scrambled to get everything that his master had asked for while Randy was led to the other side of the store where shoes lined the wall. His master seemed to take in the shoes, looking at several pair and looking at Randy before looking at the shoes again, as if he were deciding how they would look on Randy.

"May I help you find some shoes?" An older man approached them, ignoring Randy just like the other employees had.

"I'm looking for some good shoes for my slave here." His master ignored the look the man gave him and continued. "I want several pairs that he can work in and then a few dress pairs for events."

The shoes sales man took Randy's size quietly, only muttering to himself how ridiculous it was that he was taking a slaves shoe size when Randy's master's back was turned. And Randy could only bite his tongue while several pairs of shoes were brought up, his master dismissing the ones he didn't like. Randy didn't get to try any on for a while since his master couldn't seem to decide what he liked the most.

"Boy," His master waved to several shoes on display. "What do you like?"

The shoe salesman gasped a bit as Randy was allowed to choose something for himself. Gulping down fear, Randy looked at the shoes. Not too many caught his eye, but a few he liked. He didn't want to choose the wrong pair and upset his master, but he also didn't want to not choose and defy orders.

"Well?" His master urged.

Randy picked up a pair of white Adidas that had black stripes going down the sides and held them up.

"Those are the ones you want?" His master didn't look too convinced. Randy looked down at the shoes in his hands and something in him shifted. He had never had new shoes before, so it didn't really matter to him what they looked like. He was just excited to have something that he was the sole owner of. No one before him had worn the shoes, they weren't too small or too big, and they certainly didn't have holes in them like all of his shoes before. They would be his until they fell apart. Randy smiled at the idea and looked up at his master with a grin, forgetting his punishment and the possibility of another one later on. He held the shoes up again and nodded his head vigorously.

"Well….how about you get a few different colors instead of just white? They have plenty." His master prompted him to choose more. Hesitantly Randy looked at the colors and picked the first ones that caught his eye. A blue and grey pair, lime green and black pair, and red and grey pair were soon filling Randy's arms as he smiled up at his master, holding out the shoes. His master eyed him for a moment before smiling and shaking his head, looking at the shoes salesman. "I'll take all of these in his size and two pairs of black dress shoes. Oh, and some casual brown boots."

Randy was in awe as all of the clothes his master had wanted for him was carted to the front and rung up. Shirt after shirt, shoe after shoe, and pair of pants after pair of pants were rung up.

The cashier spoke to his master. "Your total is $3,552.54. Will that be cash or credit today?"

His master handed the cashier a credit card as Randy stared at the total. He had to stop himself from laughing at the amount his master was spending on him. What in the hell was he wanting to laugh at he didn't know. But what he did know was that this had to be a joke. No one was willing to spend that much on a slave that they may or may not keep for a long period of time.

His master's voice snapped him out of his daze. "Let's get this stuff loaded in the Rover and then we can head to the next store." Grabbing a hand full of bags and handing them to Randy before grabbing a handful himself, his master lead them out of the store and to the Range Rover parked on the side of the road. Once everything was loaded into the back his master began walking to a store a few doors down and going in. This one was more laid back, it mostly had sportswear and relaxation wear. They went to the counter and his master spoke to the sales woman.

"You won't need to try anything on here. We are just picking up some sweatpants and underwear and stuff." Randy only nodded at his masters words.

They went and picked out several colors of sweat pants and wife beaters for Randy to sleep in and wear around the house as well as some boxer briefs. Their arms were piled high as they set it all down on the checkout area.

"Do you like to work out?" His master asked.

Randy nodded his head. They had made the slaves keep up their bodies during training by working out in a small gym.

"I'll be right back." His master went back into the clothing section, emerging a few minutes later with several pairs of basketball shorts in his hands. "These should do. I have a private gym, when you're not on the clock you can work out in it."

Randy didn't answer while this haul of clothes was rung up. This time the amount wasn't quite as bad as before but still enough to stun Randy. Today his master had spent nearly 5 thousand dollars on him. That was more than his parents had spent on him in his entire life. That was more money than Randy thought he would ever see. Why was his master doing this?

With bags in hand, Randy followed the fiery haired man out of the door. Before they could make it to the car, however, a man stopped them on the sidewalk.

"That's a nice looking slave you've got there." The man said, eyeing Randy. "I'll give you $100,000 for him. My friend would like a boy like this."

Randy's heart started to pound in his chest as his master smirked. Would his master really sell him in the street like this?

"He's not for sale. Sorry. Come on, boy." He began to led them away when the man grabbed his masters arm and stopped them.

"Fine, I'll give you $150,000. But that's it." The man eyed Randy again and winked at him. This only caused Randy to shrink back behind his master, not liking the man's gaze on him.

This time his master didn't smirk but instead looked down at the hand on his arm then back up to the man. "I said he's not for fucking sale." His master grabbed his hand and began dragging him away.

Randy felt another hand on his other arm, the grip tight enough to hurt.

"$200,000 and that's it!"

Randy hissed in pain as the grip tightened on his arm, the strange man refusing to let him go. His master dropped his bags, grabbing the man by the throat. "I said he's not for sale god damnitt!"

The hand fell away from Randy and his master pulled him away, anger on his face. He dragged Randy to the Range Rover and threw all the bags in the back on top of the rest before Getting in the car, Randy getting in after, assuming it's what was expected of him.

His master drove them away quickly, heading towards the highway that would lead them back to the house in the country. Randy wrapped his arms around himself and sunk back into his seat, he could practically feel the heat radiating off of his master's body. The man beside him was so angry that Randy was afraid to breath to loud for fear that he would piss him off even more.

"Boy," his master snapped, causing Randy to jump. "From now on when anyone puts their hands on you like that pull away. Why didn't you pull away?" His master was angry.

He couldn't come up with an answer.

"Answer me!" Oh yeah, his master was angry.

"I-I didn't know if I was allowed." Randy answered.

"Allowed? Boy, if anyone but me ever touches you and you don't want them to then you pull away. Why would you think you aren't allowed?"

"S-some other slaves would talk about how their masters would let….let other people use them sometimes." The last part was barely a whisper.

His master sighed. "Boy, you're mine. No one else is allowed to touch you. As a matter of fact, consider letting other people touch you as a punishable offense."

Randy nodded his understanding, looking down at his feet, afraid to look his angry master in the eye. Suddenly a finger tilted Randy's head to face his masters. Scared blue eyes met angry green.

"I'm not mad at you, so stop cowering. I'm mad that someone touched my property." The hand left and his master looked at the road again. This was going to be a long drive.

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Stephen tried to focus on the road as much as possible. He was fuming from the encounter with the man on the street but also felt like holding his scared little slave in his arms. One side of him wanted to say fuck it and take Randy right then and there. It was actually taking everything in his power not to pull over and fuck the boy next to him in the car, but Stephen refused to be animalistic. He had more self-control than that. What he really wanted to do was find the man who tried to buy his boy right off of the street. His slave was worth much more than that and the fact that the man had the balls to put a hand on Stephen's property pissed him off.

He couldn't even take the kid out for a couple of hours before someone tried to take him away. Stephen hadn't even had the boy for a few days. He hadn't even gotten a chance to rip that pretty white ribbon from the boys arm and throw him on a bed. But Stephen had decided that he had waited long enough. The temptation next to him was driving him mad. When they got home he would learn exactly what that red ribbon was meant for and he would make sure the boy could never wear a white ribbon again. Oh yes, when they got home Randy would know who his owner was.

**A/N-Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I had finals over these past couple of weeks and have had a hard time finding time to write. For your patience the next chapter will have a bit of dirtiness in it. Please REVIEW and let me know what you think. The more reviews I get the faster I will update the 5****th**** chapter and give you what you want. Thanks for reading! Check out our other stories as well!**

**Love,**

**-BattleBird**


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